


Interesting Times

by shinealightonme



Category: Psych
Genre: Case Fic, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something strange happens at the station; fortunately, Juliet's on the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interesting Times

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://egalitarianmuse.livejournal.com/profile)[**egalitarianmuse**](http://egalitarianmuse.livejournal.com/), who wanted to see Juliet kick a little butt. Hope you enjoy it! Originally posted [on LJ](http://community.livejournal.com/psummertime/3959.html).

Juliet had a boring day ahead of her.

Her potential murder had quickly proved to be an accidental death case, which meant there wasn't much sleuthing to do, just a lot of unpleasant phone calls and paperwork. Juliet wasn't looking forward to any of it.

It didn't help that she was stuck on hold, listening to cheesy music. She doodled to keep herself busy, and was starting to daydream when Carlton crossed her field of vision.

"Carlton," she covered the mouthpiece of her phone, just in case. "Did you hear back from the coroner yet?"

"Not yet." He rummaged through his desk.

"You want to check in with Woody? He should have – "

"No can do, O'Hara," Carlton cut her off. Apparently he'd found what he was looking for: his gun. His spare gun, anyway, as opposed to his service piece, which never left his sight, or any of the ones he had stashed around his home, which Juliet didn't even want to know about. "I have some errands to run. But you've got this covered, right?"

"What? No! Well, yes," because she _could_ handle it alone, she just didn't want to. Why should Carlton get a free pass? "Get back here!" she called as he beat a hasty retreat.

Before she could follow him, the woman on the other end of the line came back, tying her down to her desk until the call was completed. That was probably what Carlton had been counting on. Coward.

-

Juliet wrapped up the file on her dead guy in record time, probably faster than she would have with Carlton whining about the tedium the whole time. That didn't make it all right. There was a principle involved.

Carlton wasn't picking up his cell, so Juliet settled for leaving a sarcastic message on his voice mail. "Thanks for all your help with the case. The station's free of work, so it's safe for you to return now." It gave her a little thrill of smug righteousness.

As the day wore on and Carlton still hadn't returned, Juliet began to feel unsettled. He was taking the whole thing a little too far. She called his cell phone three times without answer, and left no further messages.

Thinking that he might have been sent out on a call, Juliet checked with dispatch. "Any word from Detective Lassiter?" she asked the officer on duty.

He checked his books for a second. "Detective Lassiter took the day off. Said he was sick."

"Oh." That didn't sound right. Carlton didn't _take_ sick days, even when Juliet abandoned all subtlety and started wearing surgical masks around him. He had to be in pretty bad shape to take off voluntarily, and he hadn't been that sick when she'd seen him last.

Or he just hadn't _seemed_ that sick. Maybe he he'd been hiding it. Maybe "errands" was secret don't-want-to-worry-my-partner code for "pneumonia." She thought of the message she'd left, and her satisfaction turned to guilt.

She returned to her desk, but couldn't return to work. She tried to focus on the presentation she was putting together for a law enforcement conference next month, but it kept slipping away from her.

-

Juliet felt silly the moment she parked at Carlton's place, but she was already there, and there didn't seem to be any point in not following through. She did wonder if she should have brought soup, though.

She knocked, and after several moments of waiting, knocked again. "Carlton?"

If he was sick, he might not be able to come to the door. "This is for your own good, Carlton," she said quietly, more to herself than to her partner. She fished out the spare key he'd given her for "Class 1 Emergencies only." This wasn't on the approved list of Class 1 Emergencies that Carlton had written, but she was authorizing the exception.

Being in Carlton's place always weirded her out. Everything was too neat and sparse, and Carlton's "decorating" choices didn't help – mug shots of the FBI's most wanted staring down at her was not her idea of relaxing.

She snuck through the place quickly, hesitating for a moment before opening the door to Carlton's bedroom. It didn't matter; he wasn't in there. He wasn't home at all.

The more she thought about the situation, the less she could reconcile Carlton's supposed illness with the shit-eating grin he'd flashed her before he took off. That was not the face of a man nobly hiding his true condition for the sake of his partner's piece of mind.

"What are you up to, Carlton?"

She tried to think what would make Carlton play hooky. It wasn't something she'd had cause to wonder about before. There had been a special exhibit at the history museum about the Civil War, but she was pretty sure it was closed now, and anyway, Carlton had gone twice that she knew of. And the Die Hard movie marathon at the theater downtown wasn't for two more days.

Then the answer occurred to her, so obvious that she couldn't believe she hadn't seen through him from the start. She grit her teeth and raced out to her car. "At least when I find him, there'll be plenty of murder weapons on hand."

Juliet covered her mouth. Fortunately, there was no one around. "I've got to stop talking to myself."

-

She kept her thoughts in her head until she arrived at the firing range. "Hey, Dave," she greeted the man at the desk.

"Hello, Juliet." He smiled at her. She wondered for a moment if the fact that she was on a first-name basis with the employees at the range was a bad sign.

"Tell me, is Detective Lassiter here?"

Dave shook his head. "He was in earlier, though."

At least she wasn't as well-known here as Carlton. The staff probably sent him birthday cards.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Nope, and he left in a bit of a hurry. He was only here for a few minutes."

That set off warning bells in Juliet's head. "Something happen?"

"Not that I know of."

"Was there anyone else here at the same time?"

"I'll check...Yup, three in at the same time."

Juliet looked at the names Dave had logged. They were all unfamiliar to her, but she noticed that one of the shooters – Larry Reynolds – had left just before Carlton had.

"Thanks," she told Dave, digging out her phone as she left the range. Why hadn't Carlton made the most of his shooting time? And if that were all he'd been planning to do, why call in and fake being sick? Worry settled back in; it looked as though something might be happening after all.

Carlton didn't pick up his phone. Juliet hung up as soon as the call went to voice mail and redialed. There was still no answer, but something else happened: she heard ringing.

For a moment, Juliet thought she was imaging it, but took a few more steps away from the building, and the ringing got louder. It sounded as though it were coming from the far side of the parking lot.

She found Carlton's phone on the grass and picked it up: incoming call from O'Hara. She hit ignore and checked the call history: half a dozen missed calls from herself, as well as one from the Chief and one from "Smartass." She wondered idly why Shawn had called, before another thought occurred to her. There weren't any outgoing calls from the phone in the last several hours, none since before he'd left the station, and no calls at all to anyone _at_ the station.

Juliet slipped both phones into her pocket before scanning the area closely. There wasn't anything else out of place.

-

It was getting late by the time she returned to the station. No one gave her so much as a second look. Juliet supposed that her working overtime wasn't so remarkable.

She looked up Larry Reynolds, and after a bit of fancy keyboard work, she thought she had one question answered, at least: why Carlton would willingly leave target practice early. If there was one thing he liked more than shooting, it was collaring wanted fugitives. Reynolds was actually Donovan Holden, who had almost as many aliases as he had outstanding warrants. It was kind of impressive, really. And disturbing. Juliet quickly jotted down on a post-it note, "talk to Dave re: security at range."

Juliet studied the photo on record for Holden. He looked familiar, even though she wasn't the one with the Most Wanted list in her living room.

She had an idea of what'd happened to Carlton, now; all she needed to find out was _where_ he was. The sooner, the better.

Carefully trying to seem casual, Juliet stood up and proceeded to the Chief's office as though there were nothing on her mind but paperwork.

"Chief, can I talk to you for a minute?" She shut the door behind her.

"This isn't a great time, Detective. Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"Afraid not." Juliet apologized with her smile.

"Make it quick." Vick's eyes snapped momentarily to the family portrait on her desk, and Juliet remembered how late it was getting. It only made her more anxious.

"I'll try. What do you know about the officer on dispatch today?"

"Roberts? He's a recent transfer, from Oregon, I believe. Why?"

"Because he lied to me about where Carlton went."

The Chief frowned. "Where is Detective Lassiter?"

"I don't know. He went shooting and I can't find him. His phone was outside the range, and I think he might have had a run-in with a fugitive."

The Chief rested her head in her hands. "He would have. _Only_ Detective Lassiter..."

Juliet shrugged, because what was there to say to that? "But I wonder, if Carlton spotted a fugitive, why did Roberts tell me that Carlton called in sick?"

"And you're sure Carlton isn't really sick?" She didn't even wait for an answer. "Of course he isn't."

"Yeah, when this is cleared up, can we talk about some kind of _enforced_ sick leave policy? Because surgical masks don't exactly grow on trees – " Vick gave her that look that never failed to remind Juliet who was the Chief. "Right, save it for later."

"Detective O'Hara, do you have any information about the whereabouts of this fugitive?"

"None."

"I suggest you work on that, and keep an eye on Roberts. I'll look up his old supervisor and see if he has a habit of compulsive lying that didn't wind up in his file."

Juliet abandoned composure when she left the Chief's office. She all but ran to dispatch, but discovered she was still too late: Roberts had already left for the day.

"You just come on duty?" she asked his replacement, who only nodded in surprise at her behavior. "Roberts?"

"Just left."

"Thanks!" This time she did run, and just as she left the station, saw Roberts pulling away in a white sedan. She hoped it was him, anyway. There was no time now to regret not looking at his file.

By the time Juliet got to her car, the sedan was almost out of sight, but it got stuck at a couple of red lights in a row and she was able to catch up. She didn't get too close; whether Roberts was criminal or cop, he'd probably be able to spot a tail.

The more she followed him, the more she began to doubt. Of course he was a cop; they didn't let just anyone walk in off the street. She remembered the transfer process as being exhaustively thorough. If Roberts were the kind to get mixed up with fugitives and detective-kidnappers, they'd know.

But her determination never wavered. There was the simple fact that Roberts had lied to her. The last time a cop had lied to her, well, they'd very nearly had a dead Carlton on their hands.

-

They arrived eventually at a motel off the freeway, which boasted "VAC NCY" in flickering neon letters. It didn't look like a cop's usual choice for a hangout spot, but Juliet could think of several reasons for him to be here that were legal, though not necessarily wholesome.

She parked far away from Roberts' car and watched as he knocked on a door. It opened, though Juliet couldn't see who was on the other side. She couldn't see the number, either, but she made a note of which door it was before she pulled out her phone.

"O'Hara," Vick answered promptly. "I was just about to call you."

"Any news?"

"Seems our Officer Roberts is an impersonator. I'd pull him in for questioning, but he went off-duty."

"I know, I went with him." Juliet filled her in on their current location.

"Good work, O'Hara. Stay put; I'm sending backup."

"Backup. Right." Juliet hung up, figuring the Chief might take that as an agreement. It wasn't like Juliet was planning to charge in, guns blazing. She just wanted a little look.

Juliet got close enough to Roberts' room to read the number: 42. Then she headed to the check in desk, flashed her badge at the guy working it, and started talking before he could process her arrival.

"Detective O'Hara, SBPD; I need to see your records on whoever's renting room 42."

"Whoa, hey, you can't do that." The guy saw the expression on her face and reconsidered. "Can you?"

"I can when I'm in a really bad mood, and I am in a really bad mood. Now," she slammed her hand down on the desk and leaned forward, into his personal space. "Do you want to piss me off more?"

"No, ma'am." The guy fumbled around with some papers, dropping them more than once. Maybe Juliet had overdone the scary-cop thing, but she didn't feel bad about it.

"Here it is. Gary Richards, paid in cash."

"You remember anything about Gary?"

"Um...he was alone, when he checked in, at least."

"That's it? Any details?"

The guy looked a bit put out. "You work here long enough, you don't want to notice details."

"Great. Charming. I need your key for that room."

He hesitated, but Juliet glowered a little harder and he caved. "Here you go. Have a nice day."

"You too."

Backup was going to arrive any minute, and Juliet didn't see the harm in getting started without them. She was just going to scope out the situation, then she could report what she found when they arrived.

The door was shut, as were the curtains, but there was a crack where they hadn't quite met. Juliet snuck to the spot under the window and crouched down to listen. A conversation was taking place inside, but she couldn't make out the words. There was also a regular thump-thump noise that was probably someone pacing.

Rather than poking her head up to peer through the window, Juliet dug out her cell phone, switched it to camera mode, and angled it towards the opening in the curtains. The first few shots got her nothing: curtain, carpet, roof. Eventually, she got one of Holden, and another of Roberts.

"Bingo," she mouthed.

She took a few more, but there was no sign of Carlton. She couldn't have been right about Roberts and Holden's connection, and been wrong about his disappearance, could she?

There was a loud crashing sound from inside the room.

Waiting for backup was no longer an option for Juliet. She jumped to her feet and unlocked the door, only to find that the chain lock was on. Pausing just long enough for a deep breath, she kicked in the door.

The door flew open and hit the wall with a bang. Distracted, neither Holden nor Roberts reacted fast enough when Juliet stepped in, gun drawn, and hollered, "Hands in the air!"

"O'Hara?" she heard Carlton ask. Her eyes flickered away from the reluctantly surrendering kidnappers just long enough to locate him. He was tied to a chair lying sideways on the ground. She guessed the crash she'd heard had been the chair falling over.

"Detective, this is all a big misunderstanding," Roberts tried to explain.

"Shut it," Juliet ordered. "Carlton, are you okay?"

"I will be, as soon as I get out of this chair and kick the crap out of these punks."

Taking his hostility as a sign of wellbeing, Juliet turned her full attention back to Holden and Roberts. "You're both under arrest, and there're quite enough charges against you already, so don't add resisting – "

Her advice went unheeded; Holden made a dive for the window just as Roberts' tackled her and tried to wrestle the gun from her. She kneed him in the stomach and kicked him away, just in time to stop Holden from escaping.

"Are you two really that stupid?" Juliet asked.

"Yes."

"_Not_ helping, Carlton."

-

Backup arrived, and it took no time at all for Juliet and Buzz to deposit Holden and Roberts in separate squad cars.

Carlton whined loudly for someone to free him, but Juliet couldn't quite resist the chance for some revenge. "I don't think we can do that. We need to get a unit down here to take prints first. Wouldn't want to disturb the scene."

"That's ridiculous! Chief – "

Vick was fighting back laughter. "I don't think we need to go that far, O'Hara."

"_Thank_ you."

"Traitor," Juliet said in a stage whisper.

"We'll just need some photos, first." Vick snapped a picture with her cell phone. "Now how do I send this to people?"

"Oh, you push this button." Buzz attempted to demonstrate.

"Very funny. If one of you clowns doesn't let me up right now, we'll have another crime to investigate." Buzz immediately began to help Carlton out of the chair, either because he was a nicer person than Juliet, or because he was more intimidated by Carlton.

"Clowns!" Shawn was the last person Juliet expected to see right then, so naturally, he was the one who walked in, with Gus following right behind him. "That's funny, the spirits were just sending me a message about clowns. It's a little unclear, what with all of them crammed inside that tiny spirit-Volkswagen. It's not Bozo, though."

"Really? Because I'm looking at a bozo right now."

"Hush, Lassiter, you'll scare them off with your bitterness. No, it was a different clown: less scary, more delicious."

"The Joker?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Gus. How is the Joker delicious?"

"Pennywise?"

"Geez, are all clowns evil?"

Gus considered for a moment. "Krusty?"

"That's more like it! But not Krusty, Krusty's role model, the real McCoy of fast food clowning. Ronald McDonald."

"You came here to get McDonalds?" Juliet crossed her arms. "Seriously?"

"No, but I wouldn't object to making a pit stop. In fact, I insist. But now the spirits are saying – not McDonalds – MacGyver – McAvoy – McNabb!"

"Me?" Buzz pointed to himself, as though it were unclear.

"No, there is...another...McNabb. Donovan McNabb – Donovan Tate – Donovan Holden! Yes, that's it, the spirits are warning me that wanted criminal Donovan Holden is in town."

"You mean the guy we just arrested?" Buzz asked cheerfully.

Juliet had never seen anyone's face crumple as quickly as Shawn's did. "Oh. You guys got the memo too?"

"Yes, we did," Carlton said. "Next time you want to run us through your little 20 Questions Charades, tell us something we don't know."

"Well, I'll try, but I guess the spirits are still on Daylight Savings Time."

"We _are_ on Daylight Savings Time," Gus pointed out.

"Only in Arizona."

"Arizona doesn't observe Daylight Savings!"

Shawn and Gus drifted out, bickering.

"Now that the sideshow has left," Carlton said, straightening his suit jacket and tie. "Maybe we can take these guys down for processing."

"And get statements, including yours, Detectives." At the look on the Chief's face, Juliet stifled her sigh of complaint. "I want to know exactly how this mess happened."

"Shouldn't take long to straighten out. I recognized Holden and decided to follow him." Carlton's look of pride faded to something more like embarrassment. "He spotted me and abducted me before I could call in. I don't know how the new guy got mixed up in it."

"He's not really an officer," the Chief said. "Presumably the impersonation is part of his deal with Holden. I'm not sure to what extent the two are involved; there's no mention of an accomplice in Holden's file."

"That's easy," Juliet said. "The family resemblance is obvious."

"Two brothers, one crime." Buzz smiled. "Cool."

"Not cool," Carlton snapped. "And not just one crime, either. They'll be going away for a long time."

"Oh, don't say it like that," Juliet snapped back at him.

"Like what?"

"Like you planned this."

"Maybe I did."

"Please. You ditched work and happened to stumble on a case. That's not something to brag about!"

Carlton looked slightly offended. "Agree to disagree."

"No, you owe me paperwork. A lot of it. And don't run off again!"

Carlton's attempt to flee was thwarted when Shawn and Gus stuck their heads back in the room. "Lassie, were you tied up on the floor just now?"

"Psychics," Carlton muttered.

"Grouches," Gus muttered back.

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Boys."

Shawn grinned. "Smoothies?"

Juliet figured she'd earned one. "Sure, why not."


End file.
